


Meant to Be

by likethechesspiece



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-11
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-12-13 23:23:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11770602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likethechesspiece/pseuds/likethechesspiece
Summary: Myka starts to figure out that she and Pete aren't meant to be... at least not in a romantic sense, and that that definition is reserved for another...





	Meant to Be

It was a stupid fight; another petty argument over something minuscule, but it seemed like such a huge thing. He’d left the toilet seat up; he’d left the cap off the toothpaste; he’d washed his hands and then flicked them dry so there were water droplets all over the mirror. Myka loved the bathroom, but when she’d sink underneath the water level of the bath, her head would pound because when she’d come back up, she wouldn’t see the candles or the bubbles, or hear the soft music playing. She’d see all the things she had to tidy up or fix that Pete left, _before_ she could even think about relaxing.

Pete would always laugh it off with, “c’mon, Mykes. I’m a guy,” and at first, she’d rolled her eyes, but then her anxious brain would overthink and she’d lie awake at night wondering that if he couldn’t bother to neaten just one small thing, what was to say he wouldn’t bother with bigger things, more difficult things.

She’d gone to her school reunions and heard all the wives grumble about how “boys will be boys” and she’d gag because surely life wasn’t meant to be like that when you love the person. Fast forward to her and Pete, living together in an apartment in Univille and after the novelty had worn off, she’d grown tired and moody, and would crave a case with Claudia just to escape him. She hated herself for feeling it, but there it was, and when she’d put words to it, a name to the dread she felt when thinking of Pete, she knew she had to get out.

She needed to get out to save herself, and to save them. There was no way she’d be happy with him in the long run if she hated little things about him. It was a back and forth battle she had with herself, and when Pete would remember on the odd occasion to put the toilet seat down, she felt calm, like she’d overreacted, but then it would be a one-off, or Steve mentioned in passing that it was him who tidied up and “how do you deal with it, Myka? It’d drive me insane,” and then she’d go a bit insane as well.

Craziness over the little things had stacked up and when Pete had been tired at the end of the night and tossed his keys onto the sideboard, but they’d missed and hit the floor, he kept walking because he _knew_ Myka would pick them up. And Myka snapped. “Do you care even just a little bit, Pete?”

“What?” he spat, completely oblivious to the normalcy of Myka cleaning up after him. He saw her gesturing exasperatedly at the keys on the floor and he scoffed as he picked them up. “So, I missed? No biggie, Mykes.”

“But when it happens more often than you actually aiming right, or placing them down so they _don’t_ overshoot; or when you don’t put the toilet seat down, or wipe down the mirror and sink,” he scoffed again. “When you do all these little “boys will be boys” things, and _always_ expect me to clean up after you, and you just know I will because I love you-“

“And I love you, Mykes.”

“And _interrupting_ me! Do you even care?”

“C’mon, Myka. You’re tired,” he tried to reason.

“Yeah! I am tired. I am tired of caring enough to raise you as a child day in, day out, and you can’t care enough to do a little thing if it makes me feel happier in my own home.”

“Whoa, Myka. I care. So much. But they’re just little things.”

“So what? If they’re just little things, then it wouldn’t be hard for you to fix them up, or tidy up after yourself. When you don’t, and you make that same argument every time we have these little fights, it tells me that you care more about your point than you care about me.”

“Myka, that’s harsh.”

“And I have trust issues. Was I ever good enough? So many people didn’t think so and that sticks with you.”

“I know,” Pete stated firmly.

“Then why is it so hard?” Myka shook her head, running her hand through her hair when Pete remained silent. “I’m going to bed.”

“I guess I’m sleeping on the couch again?”

“I don’t care anymore,” Myka mumbled, marching down the hallway to their room.

“I do care, Myka. You know I do.” She stopped and turned around halfway, waiting for him to continue. That couldn’t be his whole defence. “You’re not happy here. You visit Claudia so often, and when I get back after a case lately, you’re at the warehouse in some aisle, I don’t even know where.”

“Helena’s,” Myka whispered to herself, although Pete caught it. She hadn’t really thought about it much before – possibly in her attempts to forget the other woman – but she had been retreating to Helena’s aisle and spending, sometimes, hours there.

“I don’t think I’ve been happy either.” Pete’s pitch had dropped and he was almost at a whisper as well. “I don’t think we were meant for this.”

“I love you, but I agree.”

“Love aside, I think we need time apart; I think we need to end this.”

“I do, too,” Myka hushed, looking up at Pete and seeing how bone-deep tired he was as well. “I’ll go to the B&B.”

“I’m sorry, Myka.” Myka was sorry too, and so she turned back fully to Pete and strode up to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, immediately breathing in the new aftershave he was wearing. She cringed, and held her breath.

“I have a box of clothes still at the B&B,” she whispered, preparing to leave. She pulled back and looked him in the eye, knowing that they would both cry about this once the other was gone. “I’m sorry, Pete.”

And then she left, closing the door behind her and practically running down the flight of stairs and out to their car. She messaged Claudia that she was coming, and hopped in, driving just this side of speeding until she pulled up outside of the B&B. Claudia was at the door to let her in, and then they were trudging upstairs to the younger woman’s room, needing deep chats and tissues for tears.

“I’m just tired, Claud.”

“Of toilet seats and toothpaste caps,” Claudia joked, but then changed her tone. “I get it though, and I love you guys but…” she hesitated, biting her lip in uncertainty, but then Myka was nodding for her to continue so she just spat it out. “I’ve seen this coming.” Myka didn’t respond beyond closing her eyes and taking a cleansing breath, and so Claudia elaborated. “You’ve always had your cute argue-banter thing, but lately it’s been less cute and more… tense. And it’s been actual arguments. I love Pete, but I don’t want a girl to be stuck in that, so I’m kinda glad you’re out.”

“I can’t believe I’m out,” Myka shook her head, still reeling from breaking up with someone she thought she’d have forever with. Although… “I thought we were, you know…”

“If you say, ‘soulmates’, I’ll nod, but if you say, ‘meant to be’ then I will crawl over there and slap you.” Claudia was sitting on the floor, ready to crawl over to Myka sitting against her bed, but then Myka was lifting herself up onto the bed in retreat.

“I thought we were though, Claud.”

“Ok, well ‘meant to be friends’: yes. But babe, you were meant for more than man child Pete Lattimer. You were meant for someone who was in awe of you _all the damn time_ ; someone who I was maybe talking to this evening and turned 50% of conversations around so that she could talk about you; someone who you could be totally gay with.” Myka was frowning, not in anger, but confusion at Claudia’s dramatic and exhausting declaration, but then her mind clicked back to her earlier revelation, and Helena’s name fell out of her mouth. “Ding, ding, ding!”

“But, Claud, I don’t know where she is,” Myka whined, feeling as if this night was just stealing the air from her lungs and leaving her an emotional mess.

“Um…” Claudia hinted, looking over at her phone and then her computer.

“Wait, you were on the phone with her. Claud, can you find her?”

“I mean, I shouldn’t, but you two crazy kids need all the help you can get.”

“Claudia, she has like a hundred years on you.”

“A hundred and twenty-six actually, but mere details, my friend,” Claudia said as she hopped up to her desk to open her laptop. Her fingers danced across the keyboard and soon her screen was running a trace on the number that Helena had called from that evening, and then it was blinking an address at them. “I am dangerous,” the young techie mumbled proudly as she wrote the address down on a scrap piece of paper, snapping it up into the air beside her head for Myka to snag. When she turned, Myka was already pulling her shoes on again and trading her flowy button up for one of Claudia’s hoodies. “Should you drive?”

“I don’t know, Claud; I feel like if I wait til morning, I’ll chicken out.”

“True,” Claudia shot back, knowing that any more time than ten minutes would result in Myka overthinking _everything_. “But let me drive you to the airport. Go pack a bag; we have spare toothbrushes in the bathroom drawer, and I’ll book your flight to San Fran.”

Luckily, there was a flight in an hour, and Myka got one of the last seats. She waved Claudia off and all but ran to the desk to check her luggage. She tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for the boarding call, and then remembered Pete. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and typed out an unnecessarily long message, before deleting it all and simply sending, “I’m flying to see Helena. Ask Claudia if you’re worried. I’m sorry and I love you xx”

She boarded the plane, glad that Claudia had booked her a window seat, surprised that there was even one left, and as soon as she was still for five minutes, she was falling asleep. When she opened her eyes again, it was dark still and the plane was landing. She rubbed at her eyes and decided to make a pitstop at the restroom before catching a cab. Once she’d washed the sleep from her eyes, and made herself look half decent for public _and_ for Helena, she collected her luggage and walked outside. It was almost too warm for a hoodie, but the cooler night air made it bearable.

She gave the address to the driver as she hopped into a cab, and then tried to enjoy the streetlights going by overhead as she rested her head back against the headrest. She looked at her phone, glad that it would change time accordingly, for if she’d looked at her watch she would’ve freaked. It was after midnight in South Dakota, so hopefully Helena would still be awake in California. She told herself that Helena would be glad to get out of bed for her, but she still didn’t want to be an unpleasant surprise.

“Oh, dear god…” Myka whispered to herself, and then sent off a message to Claudia. Half a minute later she got a reply; well… two replies. The first was three laughing face emojis. The second one was assuring Myka that Helena didn’t have a _someone_ , at least not that Claudia knew, and she knew all. She exhaled, relieved, her heart rate slowly down, but then they were pulling up next to an apartment building and her heart was racing again.

She paid the driver and walked up the few steps to the main door. She was about to buzz for Helena when a young couple stumbled out, probably heading out for Friday night clubbing, and so she slipped inside. It felt wrong to be surprising Helena like this, but she was also getting more excited with each step about surprising Helena like this.

The Englishwoman’s apartment was on the fourth floor, and Myka cursed herself for not taking the elevator when she reached the door. She paused to catch her breath, but decided to cut to the chase and knock on the door already, lest her heart beat out of her chest. She was beginning to feel clammy in her sweater, and was glad she’d packed at least one tank top in her mad hurry, as well as the one under her hoodie.

Suddenly, a light flicked on inside the apartment, and its glow flooded underneath the door a little. Myka held her breath to listen, and could hear Helena walking to the door, but then it stopped. The world seemed to stand still, and seconds seemed to turn into hours as Helena stood stunned on the other side of the door. And then it swung open.

“I’m going to kill Claudia,” Helena said, her hand on her hip.

Myka felt her lungs expand as she breathed in, practically tasting Helena’s floral body wash. Her mind went calm in that moment, her senses being blissfully overwhelmed with the sweet aroma, as opposed to Pete’s awful choice. She let her eyes linger, her lips parting slightly as she stared at Helena’s. Then she let them fall to sleepily rake over Helena’s body, enjoying the delicious way her cameo hugged her bodice, and cotton sleep shorts sat low on her lips. “Please don’t,” she muttered, before bringing her eyes back up to meet the other woman’s. “She believes we are meant to be.” She hadn’t really meant to say that, but the cheeky grin that spread across Helena’s said it was… meant to be.

“I’m inclined to agree,” Helena stated, reaching out to grab at Myka’s hoodie and pull her inside.

The curly haired woman dragged her bag in with her, but once she was fully in, and Helena had pushed the door closed, she dropped it and threw her arms around the shorter woman. She breathed Helena in, splaying her hands across her back, squeezing her tight. Helena squeezed back, and a soft breath of air was pushed out of her lungs. Myka hummed her smile, and shifted her head so that she could press her lips to the exposed skin of Helena’s neck.

“You’re very warm, darling,” Helena whispered with tightly shut eyes, and then Myka realised it all over, and could feel the sweat at her hairline and her back. She stepped away, intending to go to her bag for something to change into, but then Helena was tugging at the bottom of her hoodie, pulling it up and over her head. Myka watched as Helena cast it aside and pulled the American back to her, kissing her soundly this time on the lips. Myka pressed her flushed body to Helena’s, dipping at the knees to wrap her arms snugly around the Englishwoman’s waist.

Helena moaned, deep and needing, feeling her eyes roll back into her head. Myka’s lips were warm and chapped, but just as soft as she’d frequently imagined them to be. In the middle of ordinary conversations, she used to catch her eyes dropping just for a glance of those lips, and after it had happened a few times, she’d found a desire growing in her chest for those lips to one day be on her, and now they were. She could feel Myka tilt her head and part her lips slightly, and could hear another soft moan escape from her. Helena thought that this was what heaven must be like.

Myka’s lips moved smoothly across Helena’s, and her fingertips found themselves digging into soft flesh, pushing and pulling at thin clothing in attempts to feel more of Helena. After a time, she pulled back from the kiss for air, but her gasp turned into a yawn and her hand came up to cover her gaping mouth. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, and then Helena was placing her hands on Myka’s hips and kissing the back of her hand. “It’s almost one in Univille, so…” Another yawn.

Helena slipped her fingertips into the belt loops of Myka’s jeans and tugged her towards her bedroom, flicking off the light as they went. She slipped back into bed, leaving Myka to ditch her jeans before crawling in. She told herself to not watch, to focus at the lovely way the full moon was shining through her open window, but then Myka was reaching underneath her own singlet and undoing her bra, and Helena’s eyes were no longer on the window. Myka didn’t notice her casually staring, and so she relaxed into the moment a touch more.

When the taller woman slipped into bed, she hesitated at every move, realising in herself that she’d been mostly sharing a bed with one person, a man, their friend, for quite a while now. Myka couldn’t help but feel a little guilty, but then Helena was rolling to face her, stroking her arm and bringing her back. Her tired brain could overstress about this later, she decided, and relaxed into the pillow. She looked over at Helena, the moon casting a halo against her glossy hair, and Myka smiled. She hadn’t seen Helena in months, and then all at once, the Englishwoman’s beauty was overwhelming her again. She wriggled closer, and smiled as Helena’s arm came to drape across her waist, her fingertips playing at the hem of her singlet.

Helena could see Myka’s smile in the moonlight, and, oh, how she’d missed that smile. The way her lips twitched up at the corners, and then those great white teeth, framed perfectly with those lips. Helena had always had a love affair with Myka’s lips, from the way they pursed when she was grumpy, to the way they wound themselves around intricate words, or Shakespearean prose; from the silly faces she’d pull, featuring weird mouth shapes, to how she’d imagine they’d feel on her neck. She’d had a brief taste tonight, and longed for more – had been longing for years – but as she could slowly feel Myka falling asleep, she knew it could wait another night.

Myka could hear Helena’s breathing, could feel it tickle over her skin as she felt the night breeze ghost in, and the stark warmth that Helena’s arm cast across her waist. Suddenly, it dawned on her, and rippled through her entire body what it really felt like. She’d thought she and Pete had been ‘meant to be’ but it was always a concept that lived only in her brain. But now, as she lay in Helena’s bed in Helena’s arms, she felt that concept running through her veins, and she finally understood it. Helena felt _meant to be_.

**Author's Note:**

> I swear every fic I write for these two comes down to how Myka and Helena are meant to be! If you agree with that, come and chat to me over at lesbiankissesinspace.tumblr.com or just send me a message on here! xo


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